


perfect to instruction

by apprepuff



Category: Undertale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Handplates, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus (Undertale), Cooking Scenes Written By A Culinarily Incompetent Dumbass, Gen, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Psychological Trauma, Science Jargon Written By A Scientifically Incompetent Dumbass, actually pretty fluffy all things considered, although it’s repressed the whole time, and also after the incident with blue magic, f in the chat for sans he gets like no screentime, gaster you’re SUCH A MESS, it was very hard to keep this fic gen, papyrus is a little weird but you would be too if you were raised in a lab, platonic intimacy, takes place after sans’s attempted murder of gaster with the beams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25759879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apprepuff/pseuds/apprepuff
Summary: 2-P is concerned for his creator’s health, and decides to do him a favour.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), W. D. Gaster & Papyrus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	perfect to instruction

**Author's Note:**

> HOOOO BOYYYY THIS TOOK OVER TWO MONTHS BUT I DID IT!!!!!!!
> 
> Please enjoy the result of my suffering, procrastination, love for Handplates, and sudden burst of productivity within the last few days :D
> 
> a big hug and a thank you to my friend wendy for giving me ideas to add into this! love u girl!!

“i still don’t get why you bother with him.”

2-P turned his head to look up at his brother, who was sitting behind him on the small ledge in their cell, his hands by his sides. The smaller skeleton had been silently watching him mess with the colour cube for around ten minutes now.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“y’know exactly what i mean. he doesn’t have a nice bone in his body, but you still think that someday he’s gonna change. i mean, hell, you  _literally saved his life_ once, and that still didn’t change anything.”

“WELL, IF I’M NICE, AND I CAME FROM HIM, THEN HE HAS TO BE NICE ON THE INSIDE!” The taller skeleton accentuated his sentence with a smile and a gentle toss of the half-solved colour cube in his hands. “THERE’S GOOD IN EVERYTHING, BROTHER. EVEN PEOPLE LIKE HIM.”

1-S blinked at him, seemingly processing his words. He then sighed and shook his head, but 2-P could tell that he wasn’t disappointed. If anything, his brother never wanted him to change.

“whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The taller skeleton hummed proudly and leaned his head back to rest between 1-S’s legs, then looked towards the doorway of their cell. Still, there was no sign of their creator. Usually, he would have shown up by now, ready to whisk one or both of them away for their early morning tests. Where  _was_ he...?

“HEY, SHOULDN’T HE BE HERE BY NOW...?”

1-S gave a half-interested glance to the doorway. “i dunno, maybe...? how do you know what time he comes?”

“I GUESS I’VE JUST GOT THE USUAL SCHEDULE BURNED INTO MY BRAIN, THAT’S ALL. IT’S BEEN AT LEAST AN HOUR... WHERE DO YOU THINK HE IS?”

The smaller skeleton thought for a moment, then snickered. “dead, hopefully.”

“BROTHER!”

2-P swatted his cellmate’s femur disapprovingly, albeit lightly — he could never be too careful when it came to 1-S, after all. His brother laughed, making 2-P’s heart feel just a bit lighter and the edges of his mouth tilt up in a smile.

“NOT ONLY IS THAT A MEAN THING TO SAY, BUT IF HE WAS DEAD, WE’D STARVE DOWN HERE. HE’S THE ONE WHO BRINGS US FOOD!”

“yeah, i guess so. wouldn’t wanna go hungry, now would we? it’s not like anybody else is gonna come save us.”

At the sound of footsteps at the end of the hallway, both subjects stopped talking and turned their heads.

Their creator never told them anything about himself — the brothers didn’t even know his name. Therefore, in an attempt to learn more about him, 2-P had picked up a habit of reading into the way the older skeleton did the smallest things, such as handing them papers or food. He knew from that that the scientist made a conscious effort to not even brush hands with the subjects — he seemed very averse to the idea of any physical contact whatsoever with his creations.

Even so, 2-P had a vague memory of the scientist teaching him how to walk, and recalled the feeling of his small hands being tightly held in his creator’s bigger ones — a strong, yet gentle grip that said “I won’t let anything hurt you.” He clung to that memory like his life depended on it, because nowadays, the older monster would jerk his hand away if 2-P attempted to hold it. Perhaps he didn’t like to think about it?

He seemed to have perfect control of every little movement and gesture, and yet he exerted little effort. It was kind of amazing. What was the word... graceful? Yes, that was it.

Over time, 2-P had gotten used to the steady tapping of his creator’s shoes on the tiled floor of the lab. Aside from his brother’s breathing and the ambient whirring sounds of the lab’s technology, it was one of the only sounds the young skeleton ever heard when he was locked away in his cell. 1-S couldn’t care less about such meaningless details — yet another difference between the two — so he didn’t seem to notice the way the tapping sounds weren’t so steady this time. It sounded like the approaching scientist was having a hard time staying upright.

2-P shifted to face the door, and gave a friendly smile as his creator came into view. The smile quickly faded as he noticed how unwell the older skeleton looked. He had one hole-punched hand on the lab wall to steady himself, had a noticeable shiver, and he was slightly hunched over, as if he was in pain.

He looked... fragile. It was confusing. 2-P had never seen him in such a sorry state. Well, at least not since...

“GOOD MORNING! ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?” 2-P’s typical cheerful tone was laced with worry as he pushed away the bad memories. He made sure to speak slightly quieter than usual, just in case the older monster had a headache, as he often did in the morning.

“woah, you look like death,” 1-S quipped. “what happened to you?”

“Nothing, 1-S,” the scientist mumbled. He pressed one hand to the sensor on the wall to bring down the forcefield blocking the cell door. “And I’m fine, 2-P. You’re the first on my schedule today, so come along. We’ll be doing a simple assessment to test your memory.”

“so no death lasers? wow, you’re really not feelin’ so hot today, are ya?”

“SHUSH, BROTHER. I’LL BE BACK SOON!” 2-P stood up and handed the colour cube to the smaller skeleton before hugging him, humming contentedly when his brother hugged back.

“i’ll do my best to solve your puzzle while you’re gone, bro,” 1-S told him, warm affection in his voice. “i think this one might be the one to stump me.”

A sense of pride buzzed in 2-P’s SOUL from his brother’s praise as he trotted up to the older skeleton waiting for him. He watched the scientist put the forcefield back up, then followed him as he made his way down the hall, turning his head to look back as he heard the clicking sounds of the colour cube’s parts being turned as 1-S started trying to solve his latest puzzle.

2-P turned back around and looked up at his creator.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE ALRIGHT? YOU’RE ALL WOBBLY, AND YOU’RE LEANING ON THE WALL.”

“I told you that I’m fine.”

“I HOPE THIS DOESN’T SOUND MEAN, BUT I DON’T THINK I BELIEVE YOU.”

“Whether you believe me or not is not important. Quiet now.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t get anything else out of the stoic skeleton, 2-P did as he was told and shut his mouth. A few times, the scientist stumbled as he walked, but when his creation reached forward to help him stand up, he gently shooed him away with his hand and steadied himself on his own. The nameless monster couldn’t see it, as he was walking ahead of 2-P, but the little test subject wore a worried expression on his face.

_ «I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU SO OFF-BALANCE. WHAT’S WRONG...?» _

Soon enough, the two reached a room that 2-P recognized. This was the typical room he would be taken to whenever he was going to do a paper test. There was a single wooden table off to the right side, with two chairs positioned on opposite ends, and shelves and filing cabinets stood against the other walls. A few boxes full of miscellaneous office supplies littered the floor — perhaps his creator hadn’t had the space or time to put them all away yet. Off to the left was his creator’s desk, littered with all sorts of papers and complete with a sleek-looking grey computer that seemingly hadn’t been turned off since last night. A strange greyish-blue dish filled with little burnt white and brown sticks and some sort of black dust was positioned next to it.

“Take a seat at the table and I’ll pass you today’s assignment,” the older skeleton told him. 2-P noticed that he didn’t sound as strict as usual. More... tired, if that was the correct word. “It’s just a simple revision of what you already know, so as long as you’ve been paying attention, even someone of your intelligence shouldn’t have a hard time with it.”

Trying to shake off the slightly hurtful comment regarding his intelligence, 2-P nodded with a compliant hum and carefully sat in the chair closest to the door. He shifted a bit to get comfortable, then propped his head up with his arm and watched the older monster grab a few papers from his desk and set them down in front of him. They were stapled together in the top-left corner, and 2-P ran his fingers along the cover page lightly.

2-P looked at the test in front of him for a moment, before looking back up at the taller monster. He looks like he was expecting 2-P to do something. After a moment, a light came on in the young skeleton’s head, and he half-smiled awkwardly.

“I, UH... NEED A PENCIL. TO DO THE TEST, I MEAN.”

His creator’s expression changed from tired to blank, as if he hadn’t realized that before. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, a gesture that 2-P knew meant that he was embarrassed, even though he didn’t see it very often.

“Oh, of course. Here.”

The scientist pulled a mechanical pencil out of his coat pocket and laid it in front of 2-P, along with a small container of spare lead. The younger skeleton started the quiz as his creator walked around the table to sit in the chair on the other side.

Most of the questions were easy. Questions about skeleton anatomy, about magic, multiple-choice questions about this, that, or the other thing... nothing that 2-P was unfamiliar with. He smirked internally, hoping that he would get a higher grade than the scientist expected, just to see that look he got on his face whenever he was surprised by the younger skeleton’s cleverness.

He looked up from the test once, and saw that the nameless monster across from him was doing his own work. He kept his gaze on him for a few seconds, studying his face. The older skeleton looked tired and sickly, and he worried internally for his well-being. He wasn’t fast enough to look away before the other monster noticed.

A few long, awkward seconds of eye contact.

“... What?”

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE ALRIGHT?”

The scientist sighed. 2-P couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just... exhausted.

“Yes, I’m sure. Why are you so invested in my health?”

“I’M JUST WORRIED, THAT’S ALL. YOU LOOK SICK.”

“I’m doing fine, 2-P. Just do your work.”

2-P hummed in defeat and looked back down at his paper. A few minutes passed before he knitted his brow bones together in confusion when he read a certain question. He should know this one, shouldn’t he? Why was the answer not coming to mind? The younger skeleton knew that asking his creator for help wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he wracked his brain for any semblance of an answer. It was on the very tip of his mind when...

_ THUD! _

A loud noise of something hitting the floor startled 2-P, and he let out a yelp of surprise. His concentration broken, he looked around quickly in confusion. His instincts told him to run, but his brain told him to investigate. It didn’t take long for the test subject to notice that the chair his creator had previously been sitting in was now empty.

Jumping off of his chair, 2-P gasped in shock at the sight of the scientist lying on the floor, passed out cold seemingly out of nowhere. So  _that_ was where the noise came from.

The young skeleton wasted no time, and got down on his knees to inspect the collapsed monster. He placed one hand on the scientist’s chest to check if he was breathing. The mellow rise and fall of his chest, along with the soft, steady sound of breathing, calmed the subject’s mind only slightly.

Next, he checked his head, making sure that there wasn’t any damage to the skull — that  _thud_ didn’t sound painless. 2-P pulled the tall monster’s head into his lap, running his left hand along his skull to check for any bleeding or new cracks, and sighing in relief when he found none. He gently traced his fingers on his right hand along the cracks that were already on the monster’s face, physically shuddering at the unpleasant memory of the last time he had seen his creator this helpless. A light groan from the unconscious scientist surprised him, but not enough to make him flinch. In a strange way, he was relieved. At least he was conscious enough to register physical touch.

He brushed his hand gently over the other monster’s cheekbone, cupping it and turning his face towards his own for a better look, concerned eyes tracing every little detail.

_ «NO HEAD DAMAGE, NO TROUBLE BREATHING... MONSTERS HIS AGE DON’T JUST PASS OUT AT RANDOM, DO THEY...? NO, IT’S GOTTA BE SOMETHING... I GUESS I CAN CHECK HIS RIBS?» _

2-P gently laid his creator’s head back down on the floor, and checked again that he was still 100% unconscious before lifting up his dark grey turtleneck to check his ribs for any damage. There were scars on his bones and... on his SOUL... but nothing recent. Nothing that would cause him to collapse like this.

The younger skeleton ran his fingers tentatively over his creator’s lowest pair of ribs, thoughtful. A quiet sigh from the taller monster made him smile just a little bit. He sounded so... peaceful, despite his sorry condition, and his bones were... rather pretty.

He never got to see them, let alone touch them, so this moment felt special and tender to him. The older skeleton was currently in no condition to stop him, after all, so why not take the chance to be a little affectionate?

2-P reached further up under the turtleneck, affectionately stroking the other monster’s chest, and heard something that sounded almost like a purr. He hummed, his eyes fixated on the large, battered, glowing heart within the scientist’s chest. The test subject felt a strange calmness wash over him as he traced every cut and crack with his eyes. He almost wanted to touch it, but he knew that he absolutely could not. It was rude to touch another person’s SOUL, after all.

“YOU’LL BE OKAY,” the test subject whispered to the unconscious monster. “I’LL MAKE SURE YOU’RE OKAY.” 

What puzzled him were the few small circular scars on his creator’s ribs. They seemed faded, so 2-P deduced that they were old. They looked like... burns...?

Realizing that the older skeleton would  _kill him_ if he woke up at that moment, 2-P pulled his hand away and gently pulled the sweater back down to cover the scientist’s bones again, turning his head away awkwardly.

_«I CAN WORRY ABOUT THOSE WEIRD MARKS LATER. RIGHT NOW, I NEED TO FIGURE OUT WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM. LET’S JUST TRY HEALING HIM AND SEE IF THAT HELPS!»_

The text subject placed his hands over the scientist’s chest, closing his eyes when he saw them begin to glow green.

For a few moments, he saw nothing but black.

Then, slowly, colour splashed into his vision, like a drop of food colouring in a glass of water.

He looked down at his hands, noticing that his bones had turned a solid black. He couldn’t make out any details whatsoever. That was good — that meant that he was focused on the task at hand.

He looked around, before finally spotting something in the distance. It looked like a cube, made of many grey bones, and there was another, bigger void-black silhouette hunched over inside of it.

2-P quickly made his way over, resting one hand on a bone that made up one of the walls and trying his best to reach through a tiny gap in said wall to touch the figure with his other hand. After a bit of frustrated and unsuccessful arm swinging, he sighed and grabbed another wall-bone with it instead.

He wanted to call out to his creator, but he knew that he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know why, but he never could speak in this strange mini-world. He tilted his head, studying him, some mix of empathy and pity mixing together in his eyes. The scientist was clearly in a lot of pain, on his knees on the ground, his expression sickly, his arms wrapped around his midsection...

The realization hit 2-P so hard that he was thrown right out of the strange colourful world. The transition startled him enough to knock him backwards onto the floor, and he groaned, feeling his head throb slightly, still dizzy from whiplash, and staring up at the underside of the wooden table. He facepalmed.

“OH MY GOD, YOU’RE  _HUNGRY_! HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT?!” The young monster sat up and readjusted his position so he was sitting on his knees again. “HOW LONG’S IT BEEN SINCE YOU ATE?? WE NEED TO GET SOME FOOD IN YOU, STAT!!”

Another realization seemed to throw that idea into the wall.

“... I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET YOU TO THE COOKING ROOM.”

He started thinking again. Surely, with his creator’s size advantage over 2-P, he was too heavy to carry, right...? He could drag him on the floor, of course, but that might disturb the older monster or dirty his clothes, and 2-P knew that he  _hated_ that. It would also be very difficult to explain if he woke up halfway down the hall, although the test subject snickered just a little bit at the thought of dragging the scientist across the floor like a heavy bag. Leaving him alone and coming back with the food was a definite no, who knew how long preparation would take? What if the scientist needed him? What if he woke up and got angry that 2-P had gone off on his own?

The only option left was...

The young skeleton shook his head, chasing the bad memories back into the dark corners of his mind.

_«I... DON’T LIKE THOSE OTHER OPTIONS... SO LET’S TRY PICKING YOU UP!»_

Shifting slightly, 2-P hooked one arm around the his creator’s shoulders, and the other under his legs. He had only seen the older skeleton do this once or twice, but it stuck with him as a useful action.

The hard part was getting him off of the ground.

While the scientist wasn’t as heavy as 2-P expected, he still wasn’t light by any means. But he gritted his teeth and reminded himself of his objective, and soon found himself standing up straight — albeit with his bones slightly rattling with strain — with the older monster safe in his arms.

“THERE WE GO, THAT WASN’T SO HARD! ... HOPEFULLY ACTUALLY WALKING WILL BE JUST AS EASY!”

It was not.

2-P nearly fell over several times while heading towards the cooking room. Thankfully, he had always been a master of balance, so it wasn’t hard to steady himself again after a stumble. He felt his arms ache the whole way there, and his legs wanted so desperately to give up, but he pushed forward, eventually managing to almost speedwalk down the hall, holding the rather heavy skeleton close to his chest.

When he caught a hint of green in the corner of his vision, he looked down, and his mouth fell open in shock.

His creator’s eyes were  _glowing_! And they were glowing  _green_!

2-P didn’t even notice his own eyes light up the same colour, too occupied with his swirling thoughts as he mindlessly walked forward, the pain in his legs and arms suddenly a faraway, dull buzzing sensation. His focus was entirely on the pleasant shade of green light emanating from the taller monster’s closed eyes.

How? Why?

Was he having a nice dream? 2-P doubted it — on the few occasions that the scientist fell asleep around him, he was usually jolted awake by what he called a “nightmare” — an unpleasant dream that still seemed to leave an effect on his mood after he woke up. 2-P had had these before, but he certainly didn’t have them as often as his creator did.

He knew that he couldn’t ask about it later, or the older skeleton would just dodge the question, since he was so skilled at doing that that it was frustrating. What was it that was making him glow this happy colour? Especially in his condition?

Another stumble broke his train of thought, but he thought fast and was able to catch himself before he fell over. Now that he was zoned back into the real world, the aching of his limbs all came flooding back at once, and he nearly fell over  again .

“NNNGH...”

He could hear the rattling of his strained arms and legs, but knew that if he sat down now, he wouldn’t be able to get up for quite a while. And holding the other monster on his lap while he took a breather, while a pleasant thought, would be rather embarrassing to explain if he woke up during the rest period.

Wait.

That was it!

Rattling!

2-P delved into his memories once again, and focused on a very happy one. He held onto these happy memories very dearly, as he didn’t have many, so it was easy to recall, despite happening so long ago.

He remembered following the nameless monster down the hall, hand-in-hand with his brother. He remembered the two of them being told that they would stay in the room with him while he worked, and being given instructions not to disturb him. The older skeleton had listed off a few behaviours to avoid, and rattling had been included.

He remembered asking what rattling was, and being subsequently shocked at the scientist’s example. Thinking back on it, the perplexed look on the taller monster’s face when he noticed his creations’s reactions was rather amusing.

He remembered playing a game with 1-S. The smaller skeleton would tell him not to rattle, and then, as soon as he turned away, 2-P would do exactly that, only stopping when 1-S looked back at him. They did a few rounds of this before 2-P spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

Instead of working, like he had said he would be doing, their creator was watching them play, and he wasn’t even intercepting. Specifically, he was watching 2-P. The look on his normally-stoic face was adoring, which was completely unexpected, and when the test subject rattled his bones again, he saw the scientist laugh, although just a bit. He looked...  _happy_. 2-P had pretended that he didn’t see anything, but inside, his SOUL was doing flips. It was a shame that he hadn’t seen the other skeleton smile much since then — happiness was very befitting of him.

Of course! His creator had a soft spot for his rattling!

“THAT’S SO CUTE!” 2-P couldn’t help but hug the older monster closer to him. “I’LL NEED TO REMEMBER THAT. FOR NOW, LET’S GET YOU WHERE WE NEED TO GO, HM?”

Fortunately, he had little difficulty finding the room he was looking for. He grinned when he peeked into the doorway and saw a table, three chairs, the counter, the faucet, everything that had been there when he had been here the first time, making noodles with his brother as their creator looked on and answered their questions.

His arms felt like they were about to fall off when he set the still-unconscious skeleton down in a sitting position, leaning him up against the wall. He took a moment to flop onto the floor on his back, careful not to fall too fast as to not hurt his head, and let out an exasperated sigh.

“YOU’RE SO HEAVY!” Although he knew that the other monster obviously wouldn’t reply, the test subject complained to him anyway. “SERIOUSLY, I LIKE THE CLOSENESS, BUT I HOPE I DON’T HAVE TO DO THAT AGAIN FOR A WHILE... MY POOR BONES!” He couldn’t help but laugh, which, oddly, seemed to help with the pain.

2-P laid on the floor for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling of the cooking room. He felt exhausted, and his bones were still shaking, feeling brittle after all of that effort... but he still had a job to do. Someone’s health was in danger. He could rest later.

Begrudgingly, the young skeleton lifted himself up off of the floor, groaning in the process as he realized just how badly he needed to rest. He eventually managed it, although he had to lean against the wall for a moment as he remembered how to stand.

He used this period of loss of motor skills to try and make a plan. He really hadn’t thought about what he was actually going to cook for his creator. The last time he did this, his brother was here to help, and they had clear written instructions (which the nameless scientist had called a “recipe”) to follow. Not to mention that the wiser monster was actually awake, and would swiftly correct any mistakes they made, making for an ideal outcome.

But now, 2-P was on his own. No instructions, no brother, no creator to help. This time, he had to figure it out himself.

_«HE SAID IT TAKES PRACTICE TO JUST BE ABLE TO “WING IT” WHEN YOU’RE COOKING, AND I’VE ONLY DONE THIS ONCE,»_ the young skeleton thought to himself.  «MAYBE THERE’S A BOOK WITH RECIPES IN IT SOMEWHERE AROUND HERE... THERE HAS TO BE  SOMETHING THAT CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO... RIGHT...?»

Having sufficiently prepared his still-aching bones for yet more manual labour, 2-P crossed the room to the counter. He took a moment to study the cabinets, trying to think of which one would reasonably have a recipe book in it. Testing, he reached up towards the knob and opened the first one to his right.

Nope. A white paper bag of... something, with a wide, pale blue stripe on the front. It had a name written on it, maybe...? He couldn’t understand the symbols, so he couldn’t be sure. Curious, 2-P carefully pulled it down and looked inside. Some kind of white powder... probably not useful. He put it back and closed the cupboard.

Next, he tried the second one to his right. There was something there, too! A clear bag with bread inside it, twisted closed and sealed with a little green plastic... thing. 2-P had seen bread before, as he had been given sandwiches as lunch by his creator. He considered making a simple sandwich, but figured it would be more fun (and more educational) to make something more complex. He patted the bread bag gently and closed the second cupboard.

He tried the first cupboard to his left, and finally found a book! It was leaning against the right side of the cabinet. 2-P pulled it down, cringing at the texture of the dust on the cover. This book apparently hadn’t been touched in a while.

As dusty as it was, it looked like it had seen many reads, and had several colourful bookmarks sticking out of it, which seemed to be handmade. The bookmarks had words written on them in his creator’s handwriting. The hard golden cover had deep red accents, with white symbols spelling out the title, and was rather aesthetically pleasing to look at.

The part that caught his interest was the unique rune above the title — a circle, three triangles below it, and what appeared to be two wings next to the circle. It almost seemed familiar, but the young skeleton couldn’t place where he had seen it before. This book had definitely been made with love, that much was clear.

The problem was that the cover, and the pages inside, contained the same symbols from the bag of powder. The ones that 2-P couldn’t decipher, but that he thought might be words. He internally pondered what the purpose of a book would be if it was unreadable. Perhaps for decoration? Perhaps his creator could understand this strange cipher? He supposed he’d never know.

Frustrated but not letting it get the best of him, the subject carefully put the book back where he found it. Something inside him told him that this book was very special, and needed to be handled with the utmost care. Almost like his brother, he supposed.

Getting a little nervous now, 2-P was about to close the cupboard, until he noticed another book on the shelf above the golden one, lying flat on its face. Excited, he carefully pulled it down and examined the hard, dark green cover, also with dark red accents. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a notebook, rather than an actual book.

In big white letters (finally something that 2-P could read!), the title read “ _Quick and Simple Recipes_ ” in his creator’s distinct handwriting. Underneath the title, written in smaller letters, was “ _(Mostly taken off of the Internet or from the King)_ ”.

King? As in, the chess piece? 2-P shrugged. Perhaps it was a nickname for one of the scientist’s friends from outside. He was a strange one, after all, it only made sense that he’d have strange friends. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? People tended to flock to others who were like them, with the occasional exception. At least, that was what he’d been taught.

Remembering that he was actually on a time limit, the younger skeleton hastily flipped through the pages and chose a random one.

What was “rice”? He supposed he’d find out. At least there were pictures taped in to indicate what was what, and the writing was surprisingly easy to understand. Surely, if this were only meant for the scientist to use, it would be worded in a much more complex way, with lots of big words. Had he intended to use this book to teach his creations how to cook? How adorable!

After washing his hands, 2-P read over the ingredients list and spent a while opening various cabinets (and the fridge a few times) to gather what he needed. Knives and spoons (including a large wooden one), clear plastic cups with black lines marked onto them, a strange bulbous vegetable apparently called an “onion”, a carton of liquid, a glass bottle of some greenish liquid, something that looked like a very flat pot with a handle, an orange box that made a pleasant sound when he shook it, and a tube of another type of off-white powder. The carton, bottle, writing on the cups, and tube all had those unreadable symbols on them again, but thankfully, the green book clarified what they were and how to use them.

_«I’M GOING TO DO SO WELL, HE’S GOING TO BE SO PROUD OF ME!»_

Laying the notebook down on its back, 2-P set about following the instructions.

First, he took the box and poured out the contents into one of the bigger cups — little while pellets (apparently called “rice”) flowed endlessly from the hole in the top, and 2-P filled the cup until it reached the line at the top.

The young skeleton then carefully placed the small white vegetable from earlier on a nearby piece of wood — his creator had called this a “cutting board” at some point last time, and the instructions stated to use it when chopping vegetables. The issue was that the book didn’t actually tell him  _how_ to cut the onion, which meant that he was once again on his own.

_«GUESS I’LL LEAVE IT UP TO INSTINCT!»_

He first cut off the top and bottom of the vegetable, thinking it would be cleaner this way. Something stung at his eye sockets, making him tear up, but he blinked the tears away and ignored the uncomfortable feeling. He peeled off the papery skin, and may or may not have put it in his mouth, just to test if it was edible. It wasn’t, and tasted rather icky, so he threw it aside.

He chopped the onion into many little pieces as equally as he could, being mindful of his fingers. Didn’t want any blood in the food, after all.

Putting down the knife and stepping back, 2-P smiled proudly at his work. It looked neat and clean, just the way he liked it.

Finally getting to the actual cooking part, 2-P took a large silver spoon and carefully poured the greenish liquid — which the instructions referred to as “olive oil” — from the glass bottle into it until it was full. He set the flat pot (which was apparently called a “saucepan”) onto one of the stove burners, and poured the contents of the spoon into it, swishing it around a little bit with the oil. Following the example of a scribbled diagram in the book, he turned one of the knobs, and smiled when he heard sizzling.

_«IT SAYS TO LEAVE IT IN “NEARLY TO SMOKING”... I REALLY DON’T WANNA MESS UP, SO I’M GONNA GUESS THAT THAT MEANS WHEN SMOKE IS COMING OFF?»_ Worry soured 2-P’s previously cheerful expression. He wanted to impress his creator, he wanted to do good! He couldn’t afford to screw up! When would he get a perfect chance like this again??

The young skeleton watched the saucepan intently, then looked to the book again when smoke started to rise from the pan. Grabbing the cup of rice and pouring it into the pan, he stirred it around with a wooden spoon for a while, counting up to two and a half minutes in his head before adding the onions and mixing them in together.

The test subject counted up to one more minute as he opened the carton, pouring out the tasty-smelling liquid into the cup that was previously holding the rice. After he was done counting, he poured two full cups of this so-called “broth” into the pan — one after the other, since he only had one cup. He grabbed the tube of off-white powder — garlic salt, said the book — and sprinkled a little in before setting it aside again.

The next part of the recipe confused him. What did “letting it come to a boil” mean?

_«UH... “BOIL” SOUNDS LIKE “BUBBLE”, KIND OF... SO I GUESS WHEN IT’S BUBBLING, I’LL TURN THE HEAT TO LOW, PUT THE LID ON, AND LET IT DO ITS THING...?»_

And so, there 2-P stood, for quite a while, watching the saucepan, stirring the rice, waiting to see bubbles. Every once in a while, he glanced back at his creator, but every time, he was still unconscious. Still, he found himself looking — if not out of concern for his well-being, then out of worry that he would wake up before the food was done and spoil the surprise.

Eventually, bubbles were forming, and steam was rising, so 2-P stirred a little more before turning the heat down and putting the lid on the pan. And now his work was done — for about twenty minutes, anyway.

Although he didn’t understand the symbols on the clock, his creator had taught him how to tell time a while back by watching the hands on it and their positions relative to said symbols. He needed to be vigilant about the time — he would not burn his first solo project!

At least he finally had the time to rest his aching bones now. Lying back down on the floor, 2-P felt every ounce of stress gradually melt away, and he let out a long sigh. His arms and legs relaxed, and he lolled his head to the side to look over at his sleeping creator. The younger skeleton had a feeling that he would need at least the rest of today to recover from the strain of carrying a monster over twice his size such a long distance.

But, if he managed to do this right, it would be more than worth it.

He wanted so badly to close his eyes, but knew that he couldn’t, so instead, to keep himself awake, he pulled himself off of the floor, grabbed the green notebook off of the counter, and sat down with it to find more recipes. Maybe him cooking for the scientist could be a regular thing! Or maybe even cooking  _with_ him! Oh, that would be so fun!

On one page, there was a recipe for something called “soft tacos”. Whatever those were, they sounded rather tasty, and had lots of new ingredients that 2-P would have to learn about. Tortillas, tomatoes, lettuce, beef... the list went on.

The next recipe was different — it was a drink this time. Golden flower tea, something that 2-P had never tried before, but that his creator had mentioned offhand a few times. This page mentioned that King person again, so 2-P figured that the recipe must have come from them.

The test subject had only ever seen flowers two or three times, during lessons and tests on different kinds of life. The ones he had seen before had been breathtaking, tall and strong and a vibrant shade of gold that 2-P had never seen anywhere else since. Their petals were soft to the touch, and they almost seemed to shine. Someone was clearly taking very good care of them.

That colour had stuck with him. That bright, happy shade of golden. Not many things were colourful down here — the glow of his brother’s eye was about the brightest thing he ever saw, and even that small miracle had been damaged when the scientist had somehow managed to break his right one. So to see something so luminous, standing tall and proud and beautiful in that lovely dark blue vase on the table right in front of him... it had made that lesson truly memorable.

After every new recipe page, 2-P checked the clock again. He had read through maybe five or six by the time that the twenty minutes were up, and he finally had to pick himself up off of the floor to move the saucepan off of the burner. According to the book, he just had to wait five more minutes before he could take the lid off and prepare a plate.

_«WELL, I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING WITH THE TIME...»_ he thought to himself. He had read enough recipes for one day, but he didn’t want to just lie on the floor and wallow in the pain of his poor bones. He decided to start putting things away.

The bottle of olive oil went back into a cupboard, along with the box of rice and the garlic salt.

The carton of broth went back in the fridge.

The knife, spoon, and cups all went into the sink — with the exception of the wooden spoon, which he set aside for later.

And finally, the ever-helpful green notebook was placed back in the cupboard, above the yellow book, where it belonged.

He checked the clock again. Still a few minutes left. What else was there left to do?

Out of instinct, if nothing more, 2-P glanced at the nameless scientist, still asleep against the wall. He felt a pitying frown tug at the corners of his mouth.

_«YOU POOR THING... HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN? HOW DID YOU GO SO LONG WITHOUT EATING?»_ The young skeleton walked quietly across the room and sat down on his knees in front of the other monster.

He didn’t often get a good look at the taller skeleton. He always seemed like he had things to do, places to be, not to mention his aversion to intimacy. So 2-P rarely ever got a peaceful moment like this, to just... study him. The last time he had even gotten close to this chance had been when...

_«NO! STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT! IT’S IN THE PAST!»_ The young skeleton shook his head, and refocused on the monster in front of him.

He traced the scientist’s frame with his eyes. The dark circles under his eyes were indication enough that along with not eating, he hadn’t been sleeping, either. The collar of his turtleneck sweater hugged his neck, and his old, worn lab coat that 2-P barely ever saw him without seemed looser than usual on his thin frame.

Testing, the younger skeleton outstretched one hand and gently touched his creator’s face. A quiet noise made him flinch, but the older monster didn’t even stir.

2-P traced his hand down to the nameless scientist’s neck, attempting to loosen the sweater collar without waking him. His brow bones furrowed in confusion.  _«HOW DO YOU EVEN BREATHE IN THIS?»_

Suddenly, an idea.

_«HE’S STILL OUT COLD... MAYBE I COULD...?»_

Carefully, the smaller monster removed his hand from his creator’s neck and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, resting his head on the taller skeleton’s shoulder.

Having someone bigger than him in an embrace was an unfamiliar feeling, but by God, it was cathartic. 2-P sighed quietly, grabbing the older monster’s coat in his fists and just enjoying the moment. He had managed to hug the scientist before, although it had just been his arm, when he was just too tired to push him away. He savoured that little moment of victory, although it was a bittersweet memory, since the only reason he had even been trying to hug the taller skeleton at that time was because his brother wouldn’t talk to him.

Although the hug was soothing, his creator’s coat smelled bitter, as it usually did. He knew the scent, although not well. It was the same smell of the small disc full of black dust on his desk. It smelled burnt, and it made him cringe just a bit... but he couldn’t say he hated it. If anything, it calmed him, although just a bit, as he usually only picked up the scent when the older monster was close to him. He hummed, figuring that his brain had linked the two sensations.

Knowing that he would have to stand up soon, 2-P shifted his position slightly to be more comfortable and buried his face in the nameless skeleton’s sweater, taking a deep breath in and out and letting the burnt scent drown him.

_«IF YOU WON’T TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, SOMEONE NEEDS TO LOOK OUT FOR YOU... I GUESS THAT’S ME NOW.»_

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, 2-P let go of the scientist’s coat and stood up, giving him a quick once-over. Still out like a light. Good.

He glanced at the clock. Apparently, he hadn’t been zoned out for as long as he thought, as it had been just over five minutes. Relieved that he hadn’t lost track of time, 2-P made his way back over to the counter, reached into another cupboard, and got a plate. He was about to use the wooden spoon from earlier to scoop some rice onto it, but remembered something from last time.

Reaching into a drawer, 2-P grabbed a pointy utensil that was apparently called a fork, along with another spoon, and laid them both on the plate. His creator had used these the last time he ate in front of him, hadn’t he? Oh well. Even if he hadn’t, better safe than sorry.

He almost wanted to taste the rice to see how he did, but figured that he’d leave all of it for the scientist. Besides, if the smell was anything to go off of, he was pretty sure that he did pretty darn well. A surge of pride rushed through the small skeleton, and he saw the green glow from his eyes reflecting off of the shiny white plate, which he proceeded to pile a serving of rice onto and carefully lay on the table off to the right side of the room. Funnily enough, this table bore a striking resemblance to the one in the quiz room.

As if on cue, right as he set the plate down, he saw the older monster sat against the opposite wall begin to stir. His one functioning eye drowsily opened, the other remaining sealed shut, as it always was.

“Wha...? Where am I...?”

“OH! GOOD MORNING!!” The younger monster smiled as he called to his creator, a playful tone in his voice. He crossed the room and sat down on his knees in front of the other skeleton. “YOU WERE OUT FOR QUITE A WHILE. HOW DO YOU FEEL?”

“... Subject 2...?” He sounded rather disoriented, the poor thing.

The smaller skeleton nodded, his friendly smile not fading. He had to stifle a giggle at how out of it the other monster looked.

The test subject almost never saw the scientist look genuinely caught off guard. Normally, he seemed to have everything perfectly under control. He was prepared for anything, and knew exactly what to do in any situation.

So to see him look so clueless... it was precious, in a way.

His creator took a moment to straighten his glasses and his coat, probably to look more awake than he actually was — his drowsiness and dizziness were painfully obvious. “What happened?”

“YOU PASSED OUT WHILE I WAS DOING MY TEST. I TRIED TO HEAL YOU, BUT I FIGURED OUT THAT YOU WERE JUST HUNGRY, NOT HURT! SO, I MADE YOU SOME FOOD!!”

That statement seemed to baffle the older monster, his eyesocket wide with surprise. He looked around — realizing where he was, probably.

“The kitchen...” He looked back to his creation. “Subject 2, you made food on your own?”

“SURE DID!! IT WASN’T HARD!!” 2-P put a hand on his hips, the other one on his chest, and giggled a bit when he saw the tired scientist roll his eye. The subject stood up and offered his hand to his creator. As expected, he stood up on his own instead, although he seemed to space out for a few seconds once he was on his feet.

“I PUT YOUR PLATE IN FRONT OF THAT CHAIR OVER THERE. IF YOU’RE STILL HUNGRY AFTER, THERE’S MORE IN THE SAUCEPAN!”

“How do you know what that’s called...?”

“I READ IT IN THE GREEN BOOK!”

“... Oh. Yes, of course, that makes sense.”

“OH, AND BE CAREFUL, IT’S HOT.”

2-P took his place in the chair closest to the door as his creator sat across from him, picking up the spoon the younger skeleton had left for him on the plate with a thoughtful raise of a brow bone.

Even though 2-P had previously felt proud of his accomplishments, he now felt nervous. What if he forgot something? What if he did something wrong?

He supposed there was only one way to know.

Resting his hands idly on the table, he looked up hopefully when the scientist took a bite of the rice.

Within a second, his expression changed to a familiar one, which filled 2-P with relief, as he knew that it was a positive one. He saw the older monster make that face occasionally when his brother did something smart, aside from coming up with another insult.

“This is very impressive, especially since you’ve never made this before,” the scientist commented. “Even more so since you made it alone.”

Even with his serious expression and casual delivery, the genuine approval in his tone hit 2-P like a positive punch to the face. It was like he was living in a dream for only a moment. He...  _liked it_?? And he liked it enough to  _compliment him_???

“I... I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT!! IT TOOK A WHILE, HEHE,” 2-P chirped, a prideful smile on his face. The older skeleton held eye contact for a few moments before looking down at his plate. 2-P wished he could place that look in his eye.

The room was silent for a while, but the young skeleton didn’t really mind all that much. He was actually rather flattered by how fast his creator was eating. That meant that he liked it, right?

After a while, the scientist broke the silence again.

“I’m surprised that you remembered silverware, seeing as you don’t know how to use it.”

“TO BE HONEST, I ALMOST FORGOT IT, BUT I REMEMBERED SEEING YOU USE IT LAST TIME, AND THOUGHT THAT IT MIGHT BE IMPORTANT,” 2-P explained. “STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE POINT OF IT IS, THOUGH...”

“People use silverware when eating most foods to keep their hands clean. I never taught you and 1-S to use it because I always gave you food that you could just eat with your hands.”

“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL EVER TEACH US?”

He got a shrug in response before the nameless monster changed the subject.

“Subject 2, did you spend all of your unsupervised time making this?”

“YEP!”

He was met with a slightly confused expression.

“You did not try to free your brother?”

2-P shook his head. “NAH. I KNOW THAT WE CAN’T GET THE LASERS DOWN LIKE YOU CAN. LEARNED THAT THE HARD WAY,” he added without thinking. He quickly forced a laugh to try and push away the bad memories so he didn’t have a breakdown at the table. The psychological wounds were still so fresh, after all... “I DIDN’T WANT TO MAKE YOU ANGRY, OR GET MY BROTHER’S HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. PLUS, I COULDN’T LEAVE YOU ALONE. WHAT IF YOU NEEDED ME? SO, I FIGURED I’D USE THE TIME TO DO SOMETHING THAT I KNEW I COULD DO INSTEAD!”

Again, the scientist looked surprised. 2-P raised a brow bone, a worried expression on his face. Had he said something wrong?

“That’s... a surprisingly analytical way of looking at things. Even joking about a traumatic experience...? I didn’t expect that from you. Have you been learning from 1-S?”

“WELL, I DON’T WANNA CRY ABOUT IT ANYMORE, SO I THOUGHT LAUGHING MIGHT HELP... AND IS THAT A GOOD THING?” His voice was hopeful.

“Being mature about this? Yes, that’s a good thing. You’ve shown a lot of responsibility this morning, what with making food on your own, and avoiding making decisions that you knew would get you punished. This was... unexpected, to say the least. I’ll have to document all of this.”

The younger skeleton beamed, letting the praise boost his self-esteem and swinging his legs under the table, ignoring the dull ache rippling through his bones. He looked down at the scientist’s plate, and noticed that it was almost empty.

“OH, YOU’RE ALMOST OUT, AREN’T YOU? HOLD ON, LET ME GET THE—”

His sentence was cut short as his legs failed to support him and he fell to the ground on his knees, yelping at the pain. Seemingly alarmed, the other skeleton got out of his chair and knelt down next to him. This situation felt familiar.

“What the hell happened to you??”

“I GUESS I’M STILL TIRED FROM BEFORE...” 2-P mumbled.

“Before? What do you mean?”

Oh. Right. He had never clarified how they actually got here.

“WELL, I WASN’T GOING TO JUST LEAVE YOU ON THE FLOOR IN THE QUIZ ROOM, SO I HAD TO CARRY YOU HERE, AND YOU’RE PRETTY HEAVY!” 2-P smiled up at his creator, but was blindsided by the look on his face.

He looked worried. Not concerned in the sense that he usually did, like when he couldn’t find something important, or when he messed up an experiment, or when one of the machines in the lab started making a noise that it definitely shouldn’t be making.

Actual worry. The same look that his brother had on his face whenever 2-P doubted himself, or whenever he got hurt, or whenever either of them got caught doing something bad.

It was strange, unfamiliar, to see such a genuine display of concern for another person on the face of a man who seemed to care for no one but himself.

The scientist seemed to notice 2-P’s expression change from humour to shock, and just as quickly as it had been there, the worry was gone, replaced with the cold concerned expression that his creator had practiced so often that it was practically second nature.

“The walk from the office to the kitchen isn’t a short one. Carrying someone over twice your size from there to here would have definitely put some strain on your bones that, if left untreated, may cause permanent damage. You’ll have to rest for... a while. I’ll come back here later to clear the table, right now I need to get you somewhere to rest.”

“DOES THAT MEAN I DON’T HAVE TO FINISH THE TEST?”

“We can finish that another day.”

The scientist seemed hesitant to offer his hand, but they both knew that making the subject stand up on his own was only going to strain his already aching bones even more, so he held out his hole-punched hand after a few seconds of thought. 2-P took it without a second thought, squeezing it slightly as he stood up. He looked up at his creator with a grateful smile, but it shifted to a concerned look when he saw the contemplative expression on the older skeleton’s face.

“IS SOMETHING WRONG...?”

“... As much as I’d prefer for you to walk on your own, I don’t think exerting yourself any more than you already have would be a good idea. Hold still.”

2-P flinched, and closed his eyes, staying perfectly still.

_ «PLEASE DON’T USE THE MAGIC, PLEASE DON’T USE THE MAGIC...» _

The younger skeleton barely had time to register what was happening before he was swept off of his feet. He opened his eyes to see what was going on, and found that he was being held securely in the taller monster’s arms.

“YOU’RE GOING TO CARRY ME?”

“Well, blue magic isn’t an option.”

“... THAT’S TRUE.”

2-P rested his head on his creator’s chest, hands folded over his midsection, as the older monster exited the cooking room and started walking down the hall again.

After a few moments of silence, he decided to say something.

“SO, WHY WAS THAT GREEN BOOK SO EASY TO UNDERSTAND?”

“What do you mean?”

“USUALLY, THE STUFF YOU WRITE FOR YOU HAS LOTS OF BIG, COMPLICATED WORDS. BUT THAT ONE WAS REALLY EASY TO GET. DID YOU PLAN ON USING IT TO TEACH ME AND MY BROTHER?”

“You’re reading too much into things.”

“MAYBE.”

More silence. 2-P considered closing his eyes, but didn’t want to miss a second of  _this_. His creator had only carried him once, and that was after...

...

... Well, he shouldn’t think about that.

But still! The older skeleton was  _touching him_! And he was doing it  _willingly_!

He felt a smile grow on his face as he shifted ever so slightly into the touch, and felt the scientist’s arms move slightly to accommodate him. His grip was firm, but not firm enough to hurt. And it almost felt... familiar, in some far-off way. Even though he knew that his weight was almost nothing to his creator, he was still impressed by how he was able to carry him and still walk without stumbling, especially in his condition.

_ «DID A LITTLE BIT OF FOOD HELP THAT MUCH?» _

His train of thought was cut off when the taller monster spoke again.

“When you found my green notebook, did you happen to see another one?”

“ANOTHER BOOK?”

“Yes.”

“YEAH, THERE WAS A YELLOW ONE ON THE SHELF UNDER IT. I SAW THAT ONE FIRST, ACTUALLY! I COULDN’T READ IT, THOUGH, SO I PUT IT BACK.” Thinking fast, he added, “DON’T WORRY, I WAS REALLY CAREFUL WITH IT.”

The tension in the other monster’s shoulders melted away.

“Good. That’s good. I can’t replace that one.”

“I HAD A FEELING IT WAS SPECIAL.”

The older skeleton raised a brow bone. Hesitantly, he asked, “How so?”

“WELL, IT JUST HAD THAT FEELING TO IT. SOMEONE MADE IT WITH LOVE. I DON’T REALLY KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT.”

“... Hmm.”

“WHAT?”

“I’ll have to look into this little... “sixth sense” of yours.”

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

“Enough talk. Shush now.”

With a slightly frustrated huff, 2-P obeyed, and fell silent, looking around the hall. Cold, barren stone walls, the occasional bookshelf or corkboard. His creator walked past them too fast for the younger skeleton to read the spines of the books or the papers tacked onto the boards. Perhaps another time.

“Shit, where am I...?”

Well,  _that_ was worrying. The lab was a winding maze of corridors and side rooms, but to 2-P’s knowledge, the nameless scientist knew the layout of it like the back of his—

Oh. Right.

The younger skeleton supposed that with how disoriented his creator still was, it made sense that he would get a little lost. Try as he might to keep up his “everything is under control” appearance, his test subject got better at reading him every day. He wondered if the older skeleton would eat the rest of the rice he made him. Seeing as he liked it, he probably would, and the thought sparked another wave of confidence and a warm smile.

After what seemed like an hour of walking around, the scientist finally turned into a room. There were many beds here — 2-P knew what they were, as he had been taken here before. They were much more comfortable than the ledge in his and his brother’s cell, not to mention that each one came equipped with a pillow and blanket.

He was gently set down onto one of the beds, and he bounced in place a little bit as his creator went into one of the filing cabinets and pulled out a notepad, pulling a dark blue pen out of his pocket as he walked back over to the bed. Using blue magic, he rolled a chair from across the room to the bedside, and sat down in it, resting one leg on top of the other. He flipped open his notepad and gave 2-P that same look that he always did when he expected something from him.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, all you need to do is answer honestly. I need to determine how much damage has already been done. Do you understand?”

2-P adjusted himself so he was facing his creator, his legs dangling off the side of the bed. “YES.”

“Good. First question: approximately how long do you assume you were...” He coughed awkwardly. “... carrying me?”

“I DON’T KNOW... MAYBE FIFTEEN MINUTES STRAIGHT? I WASN’T KEEPING TRACK.”

“Did you stop to rest at all?”

“NOT WHILE I WAS WALKING. I TOOK A MINUTE AFTER I PUT YOU DOWN TO LAY DOWN, THEN AROUND TWENTY MINUTES TO REST WHILE THE RICE COOKED.”

“Well, at least you weren’t constantly working, I suppose... On a scale of one to ten, how badly do your bones hurt?”

“EARLIER, IT WAS MAYBE A FIVE...? I THINK IT MIGHT BE A SIX NOW, SINCE THE HURT KIND OF... “SET IN”...? YOU CARRYING ME HELPED, THOUGH.”

The other monster‘s breathing went funny for a moment, but he said nothing.

He asked a few more questions, all relatively easy to answer, and wrote down everything 2-P said. Eventually, he held out his hand.

“Give me your arm for a moment.”

2-P obeyed and rested his forearm in the other monster’s hand without hesitation.

A gentle squeeze made him squeak.

“Did that hurt?”

“YES, OW...”

“Hmm...” That same worried look from earlier crossed the scientist’s face. The one that he had quickly erased when he realized he was making it. The younger monster said nothing, instead studying the expression intently.

“Lift your leg up. I need to test that, too.”

Reluctantly, the test subject kicked his leg up, and almost flinched when the older skeleton took hold of his shin.

This time, when he gave it a small squeeze, 2-P just barely stopped himself from kicking the scientist on instinct. Instead, he hissed through his teeth.

“OWIE! THAT HURTS, THAT HURTS MORE!!”

“I see...”

A spark of colour was all the warning 2-P was given before his creator’s eyes blossomed with colour, a spectral fire with golden flames that calmed him on sight.

That lovely shade of yellow reminded 2-P of the golden flowers that he had been thinking about earlier. He was fairly sure that they were the exact same shade. It was a shame that such a beautiful colour symbolized stress, although he supposed that feeling stressed was appropriate for this situation.

The young skeleton could only recall having seen the scientist’s eyes glow once before — back in the hallway, when he was carrying him. But this time was different. He was awake, and the colour was different. The magic’s upward path swayed when his creator tilted his head, and it bounced slightly when he narrowed his eye. He didn’t even seem to notice it. It was... beautiful. Just like the flowers.

Interlaced with the vibrant yellow was a gentle white, brighter than that of his bones, the colour that 2-P knew meant either worry or zone-out. The colour reminded the test subject of another kind of flower he had seen during another lesson — the older skeleton had called it a “daisy”. The soft white petals of the blossom matched the gentle glow of the other skeleton’s eyes.

He knew that if he stared for too long, the other monster would notice, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He wanted to remember every last second of this. He felt like if he even blinked, the colour would fizzle out, like it had never been there.

But it  _was_ there, and it was bright and unique and beautiful, more so than anything 2-P could have expected.

Finally, the scientist looked up, and was visibly caught completely off guard by 2-P’s probably starstruck expression. He dropped the younger skeleton’s leg, and it swung down harmlessly to dangle off the edge of the bed next to the other one.

“Subject 2? Your eyes, they’re glowing pink. Are you alright?”

Ah, yes, pink. The colour of surprise. Made sense, given the situation.

“Hello? Are you going to answer me?”

“... YOUR EYES. THEY’RE GLOWING.”

The warm gold and gentle white were replaced by a pale pink in a burst of colour. It was actually rather fascinating to witness, seeing the first colours be swallowed up by a new one. The same shade of pink flickered across his skull, which the younger skeleton had never seen before, but he assumed that it meant bashfulness or surprise, just like the eye-glowing.

_«OH, SHOOT, DID I EMBARRASS HIM...?»_

The older monster took a brief moment to breathe and collect himself, before looking back to his creation.

“They are...?”

“YEAH. THEY WERE GLOWING YELLOW AND WHITE. IT LOOKED REALLY PRETTY. THEY’RE PINK NOW, BUT THAT’S PRETTY, TOO!”

Another surge of the soft pink. The scientist coughed into his hand and stood up from his chair, the spectral flames dying down slightly but not completely going out. He laid his clipboard on the bed at 2-P’s feet.

“I’m going to go get 1-S. I’ll bring him here so he knows what happened to you, then we’ll both be off so he can do his tests. Stay here.”

“OKAY!” 2-P smiled up at the older monster, and made a mental note of the odd look in his eye before he turned around and left.

_«IT’S NOT LIKE I CAN GO ANYWHERE, ANYWAY,»_ the younger skeleton added in his head with a small chuckle. He shifted his position and pulled the covers over himself, staring up at the ceiling with his hands over the blanket, thinking.

He couldn’t help but smile thinking about the expression his creator had made when the test subject had pointed out his eye glowing. That pink flicker across his skull was so darn cute! It gave him the same warm, fuzzy feeling that seeing his brother happy gave him. He wished that it was easier to catch the older monster off guard like that, but it was rather difficult. He supposed that it had been easier today due to his more fragile condition.

The ghost of the scientist’s touch was still warm on 2-P’s bones, and the pleasant calming glow of his eyes still danced in his memory. The pain in his bones, both from the strain and the squeezing, still throbbed listlessly, although it was only a background sensation now as he drowned himself in his thoughts, and he could practically still smell the rice from the cooking room. He was starting to regret not making himself a plate, as he was getting hungry. He hadn’t had breakfast today, after all.

Now that he thought about it, he should have noticed that hiccup in the schedule. Usually, they were given food first thing in the morning, then whisked away to do their testing after they were finished. He supposed that he had been too occupied worrying about the taller skeleton’s visibly deteriorating health to notice his own hunger.

He turned his attention towards the doorway. No sign of the nameless monster’s return yet. 2-P hoped that he had eaten enough to at least be able to walk properly, and that his brother wasn’t being bothersome, as he loved to be. In one of his rare talkative moments, their creator had described 1-S as being “difficult to work with, yet impressively intelligent”. In the same conversation, he had described 2-P as being “an idiot, but compliant, and substantially less frustrating”. 2-P usually chose to ignore the first part.

When he shifted his legs a bit to try and get comfortable, the young skeleton was a little startled when he felt something by his feet, but quickly remembered that it was only the clipboard. After a few seconds of contemplation, he sat back up for a moment, grabbed it, and laid back down, skimming the pages.

Written on the front page were his answers to the questions that he had been asked earlier about his bone pain, and on the page behind that, some numbers and a strange graph that the test subject hadn’t seen before.

_«THIS MUST BE WHAT HE WAS WORKING ON WHILE I WAS DOING THAT PAPER TEST... I WONDER WHAT IT MEANS?»_

Also on the second page were doodles of SOULs with calculations beside them. A few multicoloured sticky notes were stuck to the paper, containing a few annotations.

_ “Reminder: Test subjects’s eyesight._ ” That was simple enough.

“ _I can’t fucking focus. I’m exhausted and starving. How long’s it been since I’ve eaten anything? Have to keep working. I’ll eat something later tonight._ ” 2-P raised a brow bone at the new word, mumbling it under his breath a few times and giggling as he decided that it was fun to say. He wondered what it meant, but quickly forgot about it in favour of the next note.

“ _Have that opening song stuck in my head again. Damn you, Dr. Alphys._ ” “Dr. Alphys”? That was a nice name. The test subject hoped that they were a nice person.

Upon hearing footsteps in the hall, the young skeleton hastily sat up, tossed the clipboard back to the foot of the bed, and turned his head to look towards the doorway. Within a few moments, his brother entered his view, made a sharp turn into the room, and ran up to his bedside. A few seconds later, their creator walked in as well.

“brother!! holy hell, it’s been ages, are you okay??” 1-S asked quickly, looking tired — presumably from running down the hall to meet him. His brother never was one for physical activity. He wrapped his arms around 2-P’s neck, and the second subject hugged back happily.

“I’M FINE, BROTHER! JUST A LITTLE WORN OUT. DID HE TELL YOU ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED?”

“surprisingly, yeah! he told me that he passed out, so you carried him to the cooking room and made food for him while he was asleep! but now you’ve got aching bones from the carrying. that’s how it went, right?”

The taller subject was surprised for a moment, then looked over his brother’s shoulder to the oldest skeleton, who was leaned against the wall next to the doorway, arms crossed and still looking tired. When he looked up, 2-P smiled at him, and he raised a brow bone back at him before looking back down to the floor.

“YEP! I DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO ACTUALLY TELL YOU, TO BE HONEST...”

1-S’s eye sockets widened. “wow, i didn’t think he’d tell the full truth.”

“I’M PROUD OF HIM! HEY, DID I TELL YOU THAT I SAW HIM GLOW?”

Now his brother was listening, although the scientist across the room looked displeased, and a little embarrassed. Oops.

“you saw him  _what_??”

“GLOW!! IT WAS SO PRETTY, IT WAS YELLOW AND WHITE, AND THEN IT WAS PINK WHEN I TOLD HIM!! EVEN HIS CLOSED EYE GLOWS!! IT WAS LIKE THE FLOWERS HE SHOWED US, BROTHER!!”

1-S needed to think for a minute, seemingly trying to remember what a flower was, but a light came on in his eyes after a moment. “oh, the big golden ones?”

“AND THE LITTLE WHITE ONES!!”

“dang. i didn’t even think he  _could_ glow.”

“Every skeleton can glow their eyes,” the nameless monster told them, finally speaking up, but sounding worn out.

1-S looked over his shoulder with a sly grin.

“unless you break ‘em, right?”

A frustrated sigh from their creator was all the answer the smaller subject needed. He looked back to his brother and put a hand on his arm. “how are you feeling?”

“TIRED,” 2-P laughed. “SO TIRED... I COULD GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW. BELIEVE ME, BROTHER, HE LOOKS LIGHT, BUT HE’S HEAVY! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE TO WALK SOMEWHERE WHILE YOU’RE CARRYING HIM!”

The scientist finally left his spot by the doorway and came over, the sound of his footsteps causing both subjects to look his way. He quickly grabbed the clipboard off of the bed as he realized that he had left it there. 2-P hoped that he didn’t figure out that he had read it.

“Well, you’ll have quite a while to sleep. You’re going to be on bedrest while your bones heal, which means no tests, and you’ll be sleeping in here. I’ll bring 1-S over periodically during the day so he doesn’t get distracted worrying about you and damage his performance on his tests.”

2-P felt his heart drop. He looked to his brother, who, if his facial expression was anything to go by, felt the same as he did about that idea.

“WE’LL BE... SLEEPING ALONE...?”

“Yes. Hopefully not for very long, as your injuries seem minor, but I have to keep a special eye on you to make sure everything heals correctly.”

“he’s hurt! i have to be here for him!”

“I can’t risk his bones healing incorrectly from sleeping on a firm surface, or from the pressure of you two sleeping on each other. You can handle a few nights apart, it’s not like it’s a permanent arrangement.”

“it better not be,” 1-S grumbled. He looked back to his brother, smiling nervously. “you gotta heal good so we can sleep together again, okay?”

“THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!” 2-P laughed. He bumped his head against his brother’s affectionately, his smile growing just a bit when he felt 1-S reciprocate. “BUT I’LL DO MY BEST.”

Their creator watched them with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He looked back down at his clipboard, running his hand over the page idly. “Well, now that you believe me when I say that Subject 2 is fine, you need to do your tests, 1-S. We’re running behind schedule.”

“aww... fine.” The smaller subject sidelined his disappointment and smiled at his brother as he backed away from the bedside. “be back soon, brother!”

“THANK YOU, AND GOOD LUCK ON YOUR TESTS!!”

And, just like that, 2-P was alone again.

The subject wasn’t used to being on his own. Usually, he was either with his brother or his creator, and the latter had said before that he “fared very poorly in isolation”. But surprisingly, he didn’t feel anxious... maybe it was just the comfortable bed keeping him calm.

Laying down on his back, 2-P stared up at the ceiling again. The distant humming sounds of the lab’s machinery provided a soothing ambience as he spaced out once again.

He was certain that that green notebook was meant to be used as a lesson book. Why else would it be so easy to understand?

He had read the scientist’s personal notes before, when he left them on the table while he went to fetch something, or on the rare occasions when he fell asleep at his desk with his creation still outside of his cell. There had been many long words and smart-sounding phrases that gave him a headache, with a bit of sarcasm here and there. Some days, 2-P wished that he could understand it all — science must be such a marvellous thing if such a stoic monster put so much effort into it, right?

But the notebook was easy to grasp. There were even pictures taped onto the pages! The closest he had found to those in his creator’s notes were little doodles done in pen, probably when the older skeleton hit a wall and couldn’t think. Shaded spheres, tiny SOULs, transparent cubes, and, every so often, that same symbol from the yellow book’s cover — a circle with wings, above three triangles.

Strange...

2-P moved his right hand from behind his head and held it in the air, studying the metal plate on the back of his hand. As painful as the memory of getting it was, and as much as he wished that it wasn’t there, he often found himself staring at it. He knew that his brother did, too, but less in a fascinated way and more in a depressed way. 2-P wondered if his creator got distracted staring at his hole-punched hands sometimes.

The test subject let his arm fall, feeling it land on the soft blanket covering him, and rolled onto his left side, shifting to be more comfortable as he pulled the blanket up further and tried to ignore the dull pain in his limbs.

_ «I SUPPOSE A NAP WOULDN’T HURT... IF I CAN, ANYWAY...» _

Try as he might to get comfortable and clear his mind, he couldn’t fall asleep. This felt...  _wrong_. Not only was it early in the day and the lights were still on, but he was all alone. Every bone in his body was telling him that this was all  _wrong_. His brother should be here, he should be here and cuddled up with him and they should both feel  safe.

As unnatural as this felt, the young skeleton didn’t want to just lay around and listen to the tick-tocking of the clock. If he wanted the day to go by fast, he had to sleep. Besides, maybe rest would help him heal.

Taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out, 2-P finally managed to relax and let the distant humming of lab equipment lull him to sleep.

* * *

When he awoke again, the humming was overridden by steady, quick tapping that sounded rather close. Like someone typing on a keyboard. Slightly annoyed, he refused to open his eyes, hoping that he was just dreaming.

His face was half-buried in the pillow, but he could still tell that the room was much darker than it had been when he first went to sleep. How long had he been out?

Finally accepting that that cursed tapping was going to prevent him from going back to sleep, the young skeleton drowsily opened his eyes, only to find his creator sat in a chair by his bedside, his laptop in his lap. The glow from the screen was the only light in the room, the pale blue illuminating his thin figure and faintly lighting up their surroundings.

“HI...”

The older skeleton flinched, which 2-P chuckled at, and cleared his throat, that obnoxious clicking of keyboard keys finally stopping for a while.

“Oh, you’re awake. Finally. I’m assuming that you slept through the whole day. The lights have been out for maybe half an hour now.” He sounded tired, too. More so than usual.

_ «MAKES SENSE... IT MUST BE LATE, AND HE’S USUALLY GONE HOME BY NOW. AT LEAST I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE, I GUESS...» _

“OH WELL...” the test subject mumbled, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “DID MY BROTHER DO ALRIGHT TODAY?”

“Do you mean during testing, or are you asking how he fared without you?”

“BOTH.”

“1-S did adequately in his tests today. He would have done better, had you been there, but that’s just how it goes, I suppose. I don’t know if he’s fallen asleep yet.”

“I HOPE HE SLEEPS WELL... DID YOU GIVE HIM BREAKFAST?”

“Of course I did. Actually, I gave him some of the rice you made, since it was still out. He said it was good.”

Hearing that 1-S enjoyed his cooking made the second subject smile warmly.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU? DID YOU HAVE ANY MORE?”

The older skeleton lightly traced a finger over a row of keys, making a soft clicking sound as his finger dipped into the small gaps in between the buttons. “Yes, I did. About that... look on the bedside table.”

2-P did as he was told, and was rather surprised to see a plate of his own rice waiting for him. Now that he bothered to notice its presence, he noticed the smell, too, and was quickly reminded of his hunger as he felt his empty stomach urge him to eat something.

“I expected that you would wake up eventually, and I worked through lunch, so I forgot to bring you food then, therefore I brought more than usual. I didn’t bother to get silverware, since you still don’t know how to use it. Sit up while you’re eating, and don’t get any on the sheets.”

“OKAY!”

Pulling himself up into a sitting position, the test subject carefully took the plate off of the nightstand and set it in his lap, mentally noting that his creator hadn’t gone back to work yet.

The first taste of the rice made his eyes widen.

_ «WOW, I ACTUALLY DID AMAZING ON THIS!! GOOD WORK, ME!!» _

He tried not to eat too fast, as to not choke, but apparently he was going fast enough for the other monster to notice.

“You seem hungry. Didn’t you eat anything earlier, while I was unconscious?”

“NOPE,” 2-P replied simply. “I SPENT ALL MY TIME MAKING THE RICE, WHICH I SAVED FOR YOU! YOU NEEDED IT MORE THAN ME, ANYWAY.”

“You haven’t eaten all day?”

“UH-UH. I WOULD HAVE GRABBED SOMETHING WHILE I WAS COOKING, BUT YOU TOLD ME NOT TO TAKE THINGS WITHOUT PERMISSION.”

“... I see.”

After a few seconds of silence, the scientist went back to work, and the test subject continued to eat.

It wasn’t long before the plate was empty. The other skeleton was quick to notice, and pulled a black handkerchief out of his pocket, tossing it haphazardly to his creation as he took the plate and set it back on the nightstand.

“Clean your hands before you get the blanket dirty.”

The younger skeleton did as he was told, wiping the oil from the rice off of his fingers and passing the small cloth back when he was done.

Laying back down on his side, 2-P watched his creator work silently. The darkness of the room made it difficult to see anything beyond the light of the screen, but that didn’t matter, as the light blue glow from the laptop illuminated the older skeleton perfectly.

The image before him reminded 2-P of their lesson on the plants that the scientist had called “echo flowers”. Now, the golden flowers had been spectacular, but these had been something entirely new.

When the older monster had turned off the lights in the plant room, the flower lit up the area with what was apparently called “bioluminescence” — when things in nature glow on their own. It looked magical, and it had stunned the brothers. The blue glow in the dark room made for a very pretty and soothing effect that actually got 1-S to smile, and observing the way the light reflected off of their creator’s bones, and how it almost seemed to calm him, got 2-P to smile.

_ «I HOPE HE BRINGS DOWN ANOTHER ECHO FLOWER SOON, THAT ONE WAS SO BIG AND PRETTY!!» _

2-P made a mental note of the fact that the scientist’s expression wasn’t as stone cold as it usually was. Normally, the other monster looked very stoic at almost all times, minus the few moments of weakness he had where his creations managed to break his resolve, and that detachment could turn to anger very quickly if he was in a bad mood that day.

But this time, he just looked... tired. Like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but was trying his best to shrug it off for now.

The atmosphere between creator and creation was much different than normal, that much 2-P could tell, and he had a feeling that the older skeleton knew it, too. Something about the lights being off made things so much more... personal. He almost wanted to try and make small talk... then again, the taller monster had never been much for conversation.

He was about to say something when his creator’s gaze moved over to him. The nameless skeleton raised a brow bone, and 2-P internally cursed himself for staring.

“Do you need something?”

The test subject scoured his mind for something to say to break the tension.

“... WHAT ARE YOU WORKING ON?”

Judging by his expression, the older skeleton was not anticipating his creation taking any interest in his work. He looked back to the screen, but his hands remained still, resting folded over the keyboard.

“... You wouldn’t get it.”

The test subject gave the scientist his best pleading eyes. They didn’t usually work, but it was worth a shot, right?

“MAYBE I’LL KINDA GET IT... COME ON, SHOW ME!”

The taller skeleton sighed.

“... I suppose there’s no harm done.”

_ «... WAIT, WHAT???» _

As unexpected as it was, the scientist actually complied, and turned his laptop around so the younger monster could see the screen — after hissing in pain through gritted teeth at the sudden light in his eyes, of course.

After his eyes adjusted to the screen, he was met with a long text document that had a lot of words written down. He tilted his head, which his creator seemingly took as a sign of interest — as he should, because it was.

“I recently picked an old project of mine back up. I’m studying the properties of the dust of deceased monsters to see if it would be possible to reconstruct their bodies, if you had the right magic and equipment.”

“YOU’RE TRYING TO BRING BACK THE DEAD?”

“Correct. It would be much easier with fallen monsters than with already deceased ones, so I don’t know why I didn’t start there...”

““FALLEN”...?”

A light came on in the scientist’s eye. He put a hand to his chin. “Oh, of course. You only know death, not falling. I’ve never taught you about that.” He cleared his throat.

“Different monsters, on average, live for different amounts of time. Some live past the average, and some die young. Whatever the case, when a monster reaches the end of their lifespan, instead of dying right away, like humans do, they enter a state of sleep. This is what we decided to call “falling down”.”

“DOES IT HURT?”

“No one knows. Monsters don’t come back after they fall down, so no one has told us how it feels yet — after perhaps a few days of being asleep, they turn to dust. It’s simply... the end. Readings of fallen monsters’s brains show that they are dreaming, but nobody knows of what.”

“CAN THEY STILL FEEL...? LIKE, IF YOU TOUCHED THEM, MAYBE HELD THEIR HAND, COULD THEY TELL?”

“They might be able to... we can’t be sure, though.”

“THAT SOUNDS SCARY... FALLING ASLEEP AND NOT WAKING UP.”

“It’s all a part of the life cycle. Falling down is nothing to be afraid of, it happens to all... well, _most_ of us eventually.”

“WAIT, “MOST OF US”? ARE THERE SOME MONSTERS THAT DON’T FALL DOWN??”

The scientist ignored him. “The only alternative is to die from outside causes, but you don’t want that, either.”

2-P laughed, despite the dark subject matter, and decided to let it go. “YEAH, I GUESS YOU’RE RIGHT.”

“Of course I’m right.”

As the older monster turned his laptop back around to face him, a realization hit the smaller skeleton, one that made his chest constrict. His eyes sparked purple with anxiety just from the thought. His creator seemed to notice, as his expression changed to concern.

“Are you alright?”

“... SO, “FALLING DOWN” IS LIKE... THEY FALL ASLEEP FOR A LONG TIME, AND THEY DON’T WAKE UP, EVEN IF YOU TRY TO SHAKE THEM AWAKE OR SOMETHING?”

“Yes, that’s true...” He sounded confused.

“... WOULD I BE ABLE TO TELL IF MY BROTHER FELL DOWN?”

The nameless monster seemed unprepared for a question like that. He put his hand to his chin again, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Possibly. You can tell when a monster has fallen by if they’re breathing or not — if they aren’t, then it’s game over.”

““GAME OVER”...?”

The older skeleton waved his hand. “It’s a phrase. It means that’s the end of it. You would most likely be able to tell if 1-S fell down — and I expect that you would call for me immediately, should that happen.”

“ABSOLUTELY.”

“Good. So, in short, you have nothing to worry about. Your cellmate may sleep for long periods of time, but I doubt that he’ll fall down anytime soon.”

2-P nodded slightly, his mind eased by his creator’s reassurance, but a few threads of anxiety still clinging to his mind. “OKAY... THANK YOU.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A moment of silence.

“... SO, WHAT ABOUT DUST...?”

The nameless skeleton sighed. His creation almost regretted asking, but he wanted to hear this. Plus, when else was he ever going to be so talkative? May as well take advantage of the opportunity, right?

“You know already that monsters turn to dust when they die. The SOUL shatters and dissolves into nothing, and the body disintegrates, leaving only a grey powder that sticks to your hands and clothes. For most monsters, this happens in that order, but for a certain species with a more powerful SOUL, it happens in reverse.”

“HAVE YOU EVER SEEN IT HAPPEN...?”

He looked down.

“Many times.”

He coughed into his hand and continued talking. 2-P could tell that he was repressing something. These days, he could always tell.

“Since everything that made up the body is still contained in the dust, by analyzing it, you can tell which species of monster it came from. That got me thinking, what if I could, somehow, compress the dust back into its original form, and rebuild the body?”

_ «I LIKE HIM WHEN HE’S TALKATIVE,» _ 2-P decided, a small smile on his face. He was genuinely interested in this project of his, and what his creator was saying wasn’t hard to understand, either.

“THAT SOUNDS COOL!! BUT, WHAT ABOUT THE SOUL...?”

The older monster folded his hands on his lap. “That’s the wrench in the machine. Reconstructing a physical body is one thing — holding it together is another. A shattered SOUL cannot be fixed, and I cannot artificially create a new one. No one can.”

“AHEM.”

“Your existence is entirely different. I created a living being, not just a SOUL on its own.”

“... OH.”

“A SOUL is everything you are. It composes your entire being. Every living thing — that isn’t a plant, anyway — has one. It holds your emotions, your stats, your compassion, and, most importantly, it is the binding agent for a monster’s body. Without your SOUL, you would fall apart — meaning that this reanimation project wouldn’t be able to work without a SOUL.”

The scientist got a thoughtful look on his face. “If, in some alternate dimension where things are much easier for me, a monster without a SOUL could theoretically survive... they would not feel anything.”

“NOTHING AT ALL?”

“Nothing at all. No emotions, no compassion... nothing could morally stop them from doing whatever they pleased, no matter how it affected others.” He waved his hand matter-of-factly, with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Realistically, it would be a disaster, of course, but it’s one of my favourite hypothetical scenarios.”

The younger skeleton tapped his hand plate idly. “I’M NOT THE EXPERT HERE, BUT BRINGING BACK THE DEAD IS GONNA BE PRETTY HARD IF THEY’RE NOT GONNA HAVE ANYTHING TO KEEP THEIR BODIES TOGETHER.”

“Indeed it will be,” his creator agreed. His expression fell back to neutrality. “The odds aren’t stacked in my favour, not in any sense, and... honestly, I might just be wasting my time.”

His tone broke the test subject’s heart. He sounded like he desperately wanted to believe that he could do it, but that he knew that he probably couldn’t.

“But if I can manage to do it... I can make things a lot better for a lot of people.”

“... WHICH IS ALL YOU’VE EVER WANTED, ISN’T IT?”

The words came out of 2-P’s mouth before he could even think about them, and he quickly regretted saying anything. The scientist averted his eyes, and the test subject internally cringed at his own lack of impulse control, worried that he had made a mistake.

“Yes.”

Oh. Nevermind, apparently.

“I owe a lot to a lot of people. And I owe a lot to the world, for continuing to survive, even after everything I’ve done, while people who never deserved it have died in my place. I have to repay my debts one way or another. So... I became a scientist. That way, I can justify the space I take up in this world by using my time here to make it a better place for everyone else.”

Having a moment of realization, the older skeleton pressed his knuckles to his forehead in frustration. “Christ, why am I telling you this...? I need to sleep. Forget I said anything.”

The younger skeleton gave his creator a hopeful smile.

“YOU’RE SMART. I THINK YOU CAN DO IT.”

The scientist looked up to meet his eyes. The look in his eye was impossible to read... but it resembled something like gratitude.

“... I hope so.”

He looked back to his screen, and his one eye widened. “Last edited  _ how _ long ago?? Jesus, how long was I talking...?”

“YOU WERE TALKING FOR A WHILE, BUT I DON’T MIND,” his creation chirped.

“I’m surprised you understood all of that.”

“HEY, I’M NOT  _ THAT _ STUPID...” the younger skeleton mumbled.

His creator pondered for a few seconds.

“... Perhaps not.”

His words hit 2-P like a positive punch to the face.

“WAIT, SERIOUSLY??”

He received no answer.

Begrudgingly figuring that that was the end of that, the younger skeleton rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head, as the older monster continued to work. The tapping of the keyboard keys was less annoying now, it was absorbed into the background as the test subject stared up into the shadows.

He doubted that he could fall asleep again, not now that the scientist had his brain going. The test subject never tended to think about death, as it made his head hurt, but the thought of being able to come back from it...

_ «OKAY, OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH THINKING ABOUT THAT. COME ON, LET’S THINK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE...» _

Out of lack of things to think about, 2-P lolled his head to the side and looked at his creator again. He seemed sleepy — not even just tired anymore — and he looked like he had something weighing on his mind. After a few moments, the nameless scientist stopped typing and put his face in his hand, muffling a groan of pain.

“ARE YOU OKAY...?”

“I’m fine... just a migraine.”

The young skeleton’s brow bones furrowed in sympathy. 

Suddenly, an idea.

_ «WELL, IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVE ANYTHING TO LOSE, RIGHT...?» _

Focusing his magic, the test subject looked at his hand plate until he saw orange light reflecting off of the shiny metal, and felt his eyes begin to glow. He turned over onto his side, propped himself up on his left arm, and reached out, tapping his creator’s free hand gently to get his attention. When the scientist looked up to meet his eyes, his expression changed from pain to shock.

2-P was a little startled by the intensity of the expression, but still smiled up at him empathetically like he expected it. The older skeleton adjusted his position to be sitting more upright, confusion and surprise reflecting in his eye.

Deciding to take it a step further, the younger monster reached forward again and gently took hold of his creator’s hand, being careful not to touch the inside of the hole, as he knew that that caused pain.

The scientist flinched... but even after a few seconds had passed, he didn’t move his hand away.

It was difficult for the smaller monster to stay calm and not let his giddiness show. He was certain that his orange magic was interlacing with bright green, however, so hiding his ecstatics was half-pointless.

He could barely believe it. Every single other time he had tried to hold his creator’s hand, for as long as he could remember, the older skeleton had jerked it away. But now, he was just... letting him be affectionate, instead of rejecting him. He wasn’t returning the affection either, but one thing at a time, 2-P supposed.

Why? Was he so tired that he couldn’t even find the energy to push him away? Was he finally making progress?

The younger monster still tried to stay calm, despite his racing thoughts and racing heart, as to not overwhelm the scientist.

“DO YOU FEEL BETTER?”

Silence was his only answer.

The scientist looked down at his hand, with a smaller one laid gently on top, but made no effort to either break or return the gesture of affection. That same shade of pink from earlier lightly dusted his cheekbones, and he seemed at a loss for what to do. His confusion was evident on his face, but now trying to read his eye was giving 2-P a migraine, countless swirling and conflicting emotions all mixed into a coal-black socket.

Well, at least, it was only black for a moment.

Then, it was yellow.

The younger skeleton couldn’t help his eyes widening as his creator’s eyes bloomed with colour once again — and this time, it seemed intentional. He wasn’t completely sure how he could tell, but something about it seemed like the scientist meant to glow this time.

There they sat, in almost complete silence, the far off whirring of the lab’s machines their only background noise, the laptop screen and their glowing eyes their only light. Their gaze switched up and down, from their hands to each other, and the test subject was fairly sure that he was either going to explode or cry. The older skeleton wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. His compliance to his creation’s affection spoke loud and clear.

When the nameless monster finally broke the silence, his voice was little more than a whisper.

“I... should go home.”

2-P hummed in affirmation, and, ever so gently, released his creator’s hand from his grasp, instead laying it on the bed beside him. The spectral fire in his eyes died down slowly, until it was nothing more than a flicker.

“GOODNIGHT. SLEEP WELL.”

The yellow glow in his creator’s eyes slowly faded away, too, although the light pink glow flickering across his face didn’t do the same.

He said nothing.

Closing his laptop and carefully holding it to his chest, the scientist picked up the empty plate on the nightstand with blue magic and made a beeline to the exit of the room.

He stopped momentarily, and looked over his shoulder, back at his creation, but still no words left his mouth.

After maybe five seconds, he looked away and left.

The test subject silently watched him leave, then rested his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes to try and get some sleep.

* * *

_ “ **Entry Number ���:**_

“ _I don’t know if I can take this anymore._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! <333
> 
> i didn’t make papyrus’s recipe up, by the way! i found it online, right here!!
> 
> https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/221984/really-simple-rice/


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